“Yeah, sure,” I said before slapping David on the back and running over to greet my uncle with a smile from ear to ear.

“Have a seat, pal,” he said to me, patting the wooden bench with his hand. I sat down next to him and waited to hear the good news. I know, he’s going to tell me now that I’m going to get Point Guard, right? That way I won’t have to lose any sleep over it this week. “Matt, I think I should let you know that I am going to consider you just like any of the other boys who tried out today. The fact that you’re my nephew doesn’t mean I’m going to favor you over any of the others.” My smile faded to a look of confusion. “I didn’t appreciate the stunts you pulled out there today. Listen, I know you’re a good player, but you have to remember that there are other good players, too. You tried to make a show off of yourself today, and I don’t like that.”

“What do you mean, a show off?” I asked, beginning to get a little hot under the collar.

“Come on, Matt. I’ve known you since the day you were born. You’re a great kid, a great nephew, and I love you to death. But you have to stop acting so conceited all the time. A true winner doesn’t act selfishly like that. Please, tone down on the showing off and you’ll do just fine. You don’t need to impress me. I already know you’re an excellent player.”

“Uncle John, I’m not showing off for anyone,” I said, trying to defend myself. The last thing I needed right now was having him tell me how to act on the court. “You have to pick me if you want your team to be the best, simple as that.”

“See, that’s exactly what I mean, kiddo. There you go again. It’s not always about winning, Matt. Look, we’ll talk about this some other time. You better go and get changed up or you’ll miss the bus.” He gave me a friendly pat on the back to send me off.

“But, Uncle John, you are going to pick me, aren’t you?” I asked, not satisfied one bit with what I had just heard.

He shook his head briefly. “Matt, I already told you. I need the full week to think about it. I’ll talk to you later.”

I pursed my lips and thought about arguing with him. How could he say that he needed to think about it? He had the best eleven-year-old right in front of him and he needed to . . .